


A Vegas Story

by darkkwater



Category: Numb3rs (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Brother/Brother Incest, Gay Sex, Hand Jobs, Incest, Las Vegas, M/M, Obsession, One-Sided Attraction, Porn with Feelings, Public Blow Jobs, Public Hand Jobs, Semi-Public Sex, Sibling Incest, Stag Nights & Bachelor Parties, Storytelling, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Under-Desk Blow Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-11-01 22:22:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20526647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkkwater/pseuds/darkkwater
Summary: Don has an unusual way to deal with his obsession with Charlie, and at Charlie's bachelor party, Don gambles on sharing it with his favorite protagonist.





	1. Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don and Charlie are the only ones not enjoying Charlie's bachelor's party.

****

Part 1: Dance 

Don watched the exotic dancer in front of him twirl around her pole and wished that she did anything for him. It wasn't her fault - she seemed skilled, had a well-toned body, and even managed to look like she was having fun. Her hot-pink rhinestone getup was simultaneously sexy and playful. Any normal person who was interested in women would find her act arousing. 

Don didn't. 

It wouldn't have made any difference if it had been a skilled, well-toned man either. Don had tested this theory in many ways. He'd been with dozens upon dozens of men and women over the years, in every scenario that he or they had been able to come up with. Nothing had touched him. 

Not until… 

Don looked out over the club. It was a high-end Vegas club, appropriate for the meaningful weekend. Farther up the big room, nearer to front, Colby and David were getting a closer look at the dancers. In fact, it looked like Colby was now getting a lap-dance from one of the dancers. David was laughing and from what Don could see of Colby's face, it was beet red. Don was glad they were having fun. The rest of their party was elsewhere in the casino, probably at the blackjack tables. 

There was only one person with Don. 

But it was the only person that mattered. 

"I'm surprised Larry hasn't been kicked out yet," Charlie said beside him. "He must have gotten better at hiding the fact he's counting cards. I should never have let the entire math department take him into the casino." 

Don put a smile on his face. "Well, not the entire math department. Your female colleagues and more importantly your _boss_ isn't here." 

"Good thing," Charlie shuddered. "I guess there's an advantage to bachelor parties being traditionally men only." He paused then added, "Though I think Megan would have kept Larry under control." 

"True." 

"I'm worried that Matt and Kevin are helping Larry, too. I should have known the combination of math geeks and FBI geeks was going to be dangerous." 

"Well," Don said. "If they get kicked out, they can come watch the show here." 

"Naw, they'll just move on to another casino. I know Larry." 

Though Don was relieved that Larry and his fellow cheaters wouldn't be joining them here, he made a sympathetic sound. 

They lapsed into silence. 

Charlie must have turned back to watch the dancer. Don kept himself from looking over to check. Charlie was only a few feet away along the bench seat at the table where they sat. Don usually tried not to let himself get this close but moving away would be too obvious. 

Don took a swig of his beer and focused his eyes on something near the dancer, so that Charlie would think he was watching. 

Today, this weekend, was the end of everything anyway. A small part of Don was relieved. Most of him was screaming at himself to do something. 

Don hadn't known that he was defective for a long time. Growing up, he'd heard the other boys talk about getting turned on, but had thought they'd meant a purely physiological reaction. He enjoyed masturbating like anyone, and a mouth on his cock felt even better. He'd evaluated girls on their physical merits along with other boys, and even evaluated boys with a few boys. But it wasn't until he went to college and started developing understanding and language that he realized there was an actual _feeling_ that people had about other people they wanted to have sex with. It was like discovering he was missing a sense, and no one had told him. He didn't _want_ people, not in that way. There was always a disconnect, a glass wall between him and anyone else. He was good at empathy, and he was able to get around the wall a little bit that way, in the sense that he could tell when someone wanted _him_ and how that made _them_ feel. But that was as close as he ever got. He tried, oh how he tried, to break through that wall. He had sex with many people, in many ways, and went down some pretty deep rabbit holes in the search of that elusive connection. 

Nothing. 

He remembered finally getting a name for it, from Billy Cooper. During his stint in Fugitive Retrieval, Coop was his friend and lover. When Don had finally confessed to Coop that he felt nothing for him, Coop had smiled and said he wasn't looking for true love either. Don had felt the need to explain his problem in greater detail. Coop had listened, then laughed and clapped him on the shoulder, and said that all the best agents were sociopaths. 

Sociopath. That made sense. Don was relieved to have a label for it, because it meant that others had felt this lack before. He'd enjoyed his time as Coop's lover more than he had anyone else. 

Then it happened. 

Shock. 

A moment of pure concussive force. 

In one moment, the wall shattered… for the worst possible reason. 

Don had been home from Fugitive Retrieval, on one of his rare visits. He had been able to tell there was something wrong with his mother, but no diagnosis had been made yet. She had seemed happy, though, because both of her sons would be home for the first time in years. Charlie had been living in London with a woman, but he had finished his degree there and was coming back to LA to become a professor at CalSci. 

Don could remember the moment perfectly. He had been sitting in the sunroom, drinking lemonade, and Charlie had rushed in to say hello. 

And all the arousal, all the desire that Don had missed over the years had suddenly burst open inside him. He'd had an immediate erection, but also his skin felt on fire, his mouth dry, tingling in every extremity, his heart thudding, his body aching. It was like every description that Don had ever heard of desire exploding in him in an instant. If Don hadn't been so overwhelmed, he would have grabbed Charlie right then and kissed him and more. Fortunately, he'd only made a garbled sound, and Charlie had looked hurt and left. 

Don didn't know what had made that moment different. Maybe it was the sexual confidence Charlie now had, after having a long-time lover. Charlie had grown up when Don wasn't looking. Maybe it was Charlie's smile, his enthusiasm, his… Don had no idea. But in that instant, Don had learned that he wasn't a sociopath. 

He was just a pervert. 

After Charlie had left, Don had managed to gather himself together enough to get unseen to the bathroom. There he'd jerked off, shaking the whole time. He'd dunked his head in a sink of water until he'd finally cooled down. He'd gone downstairs and apologized to Charlie and his parents and said that he was going to have to go to bed early, since it felt like he was getting sick. But a night away from Charlie didn't change a thing. When he had seen Charlie again the next morning, he'd wanted him just as much. 

Don hadn't been able to deal with it. Other people had years as teenagers to learn to deal with sexual desire, he'd gotten all of it at once - and it was directed at his little brother. 

He'd left the visit early, much to his mother's disappointment, and fled back to the coolness of Coop's company. He didn't tell Coop, of course. Or any of his lovers after that day. But the desperate desire didn't fade with time or distance. After his mother became seriously ill, he'd had to learn to live around Charlie. He worked every day to make sure Charlie had no idea how he felt about him. Don did get some relief from the pressure of his desire by finding lovers that reminded him, in any tangential way, of Charlie. He never wanted them as much as Charlie, but it was something. He also found another more unusual way of dealing with it. Soon, those weak reliefs would be all he had left. 

"Do you think she's good?" Charlie asked. 

"Hmm?" Don said, blinking from his reverie. 

"The stripper." 

"Exotic dancer," Don corrected automatically. 

"Oh. Is she good?" 

Don focused on the dancer and discovered that a new dancer had started her routine. Her outfit was red and black striped and she seemed similarly skilled as the previous one. 

"Sure, she's great," Don said. "You like the first one better?" 

Out of the corner of his eye, Don saw Charlie shrug. "Not… maybe I'm just not the…target market here. I like women who, you know, have a mathematical mind." 

Don had to smile. "Maybe she does. Maybe she's moonlighting while working on her graduate degree." 

"It's possible," Charlie said. "Yeah, I shouldn't judge." 

"No, you shouldn't." 

They watched the dancer for a moment. 

"Do you want to order another drink?" Don asked. 

"Naw. You know me, a lightweight." 

"I think you're supposed to get drunk at your bachelor party." 

"I guess so. I could try." Charlie leaned his chin on his fists, bringing him more into Don's view. "If you listen to the movies, I'm supposed to be up there with the stri-dancer, drunk and crazy and bemoaning the loss of my freewheeling bachelor days." 

"You want to get up there?" 

"No." 

"You don't like dancing?" 

"Not in public." 

"You're going to have to dance at your wedding." 

"Yeah," Charlie grumbled. "I'm hoping I can get out of it." 

"The wedding?" 

"No!" Charlie snapped. "The dancing at the wedding, zhesh." 

"I know, just kidding." 

"You aren't happy I'm getting married?" 

"Of course, I am!" Don lied. "Amita's great!" He decided to allow himself a bit of truth. "I'm just not thrilled about you moving to England, is all." 

"I can still help you with cases sometimes." 

"I know, that's not what… Never mind." Don began to pick at the label on his beer bottle. 

"What?" 

"I just like having you around," Don said with a shrug. Even though it was torture to be so close to Charlie but not be able to touch him, it was better than being away from him. Don had tried both options. 

"Thanks," Charlie said, a smile in his voice. "I'm going to miss everybody here too." 

Don couldn't help himself, he said, "You grouping me with everybody else? Your favorite brother?" 

"Also, technically my least-favorite brother as well." 

"Gee, thanks." 

"I'm going to miss you, too." Charlie patted Don's shoulder awkwardly and Don managed not to lean into his touch. 

The dancer in front of them finished her act. They waited while the next dancer's name was called. Diamond or something. 

"They're having fun," Charlie said. He was pointing towards where David and Colby were. Don saw that the lap dance was over but David and Colby were now surrounded by a group of laughing women, all wearing pink 'Bride Tribe' t-shirts. 

"Bachelor party meets Bachelorette party," Don said. "Seems like a porn movie plot. You want to… go over there?" 

Charlie quickly shook his head, 'No.' 

"I wonder which one is the bride?" 

Charlie pointed to one with a plastic tiara. She was draped over David. 

"Ah. Think that's what Amita's bachelorette party in Reno is like?" 

"I hope not!" 

"Yeah…" 

They lapsed into silence. The new dancer on stage was wearing a tux bikini and top hat. 

Don asked, "Wish you were in Reno with Amita?" 

"Naw." 

"But you wish you weren't here." 

Charlie paused a moment before replying. "I know this is what a bachelor party is supposed to be like, but everyone is having fun but me." 

"And me." 

"You could go over and hang out with the 'Bride Tribe.'" 

Don shrugged. 

"Right, you never have trouble getting girls." 

Don shrugged again. It was true, if incomplete. To change the subject, Don said, "If you could be anywhere in the world, where would you be?" 

"At home, in the garage, working," Charlie said instantly. 

"Gonna miss that place, huh?" 

"I… I'm sure I'll find some place in England." 

Don picked more at his beer bottle label. He was already missing Charlie, already feeling like he was an ocean away, and the wedding hadn't even happened yet. 

"What about you?" Charlie asked. 

"What about me?" 

"Yeah, if you could be anywhere in the world, where would you be?" 

Without thinking, Don said, "Under this table." 

"What?" Charlie laughed. "The dancing isn't that bad." 

Instead of answering, Don looked around. They were in an alcove with just two tables and the other table was unoccupied. The seating was a curved bench around the edge of the alcove. It was a high-end club so the tables were covered by real cloth tablecloths. The cloth hung down to the floor which both looked nice and also had the effect of covering up anyone jerking off while watching the dancers. That probably happened a lot, and he'd bet the servers changed the tablecloths with each new customer. He felt sorry for the servers having to deal with cum-covered tablecloths, but it was probably better than the cleanup at a low-end strip club. 

"You could go up to the hotel room if you're bored," Charlie grumbled. "Or go find some sports to gamble on." 

"I'm okay here," Don said. He wasn't about to waste his last moments with Charlie. Not that he was making good use of them, though. He stared morosely at the dancer. This one wasn't as good, but she had a cute smile. Her eyes seemed to meet his and she winked. He forced a smile onto his face. There was no reason the dancer should think she was failing at her job. She couldn't be expected to charm a pervert. 

"But you'd rather be under the table?" Charlie pressed. "Why?" 

Don had to say something tonight, or he'd regret it for the years to come. He kept his eyes on the dancer. "So I can suck your cock." 

Out of the corner of his eye, Don saw Charlie's head whip around and he felt the weight of Charlie's stare. 

"Dammit," Charlie snapped. "Couldn't you go a whole evening without being a jerk? We're supposed to be having a great time here. It's my last hurrah before getting married and it's supposed to be fun. Just because I'm not turned on by a nearly-naked strange woman gyrating in front of me doesn't mean I'm suddenly needing to be…you know, by my brother. God, you can be such a jerk. Maybe I'll go up to the hotel room. You can take your jokes and find a…" 

Don gripped his beer bottle and said, "Wasn't joking." 

Charlie made a choking sound. "What?" 

Don said clearly, "I wasn't joking. I meant it. If I could do anything in the world, that's what I'd be doing." 

"_What?_" 

"Not that I ever would," Don said, keeping his eyes on the beer bottle. "I wouldn't do that to you. It wouldn't be fair." 

"What are you trying to tell me?" Charlie gasped. "Are you _gay_?" 

Don couldn't exactly explain his perverted obsession, so he said, "Queer." 

"Isn't that just another way of saying 'gay?'" 

"No, it's an…umbrella term. Covers a lot of ground." 

"What kind of ground?" Charlie demanded. "I can't believe you're telling me this." 

"You don't want me to tell you?" 

"Yes, I mean, No, I mean… What the hell?" 

Don had to smile. "'What the hell' just about covers it." 

"This is some sort of joke. Some sort of bachelor party joke." 

"Nope." 

"What about Robin?" Charlie asked. 

"What about her?" Don replied. 

"If you're…" 

"Queer." 

"Then…" 

"I love Robin," Don said. And it was true. He did love Robin. He enjoyed being around her, being her boyfriend, even planning a future together. He was even mostly faithful to her when they were dating. But she didn't turn him on. That wasn't any deficiency on her part. The failing was all Don's. "She knows, of course." Though that was a lie. He'd told her he was bisexual. He hadn't - and had no intention of - telling her that he was only sexually aroused by his brother. He'd hidden his obsession thoroughly. Though he'd wondered, during one of their many breakups, if she suspected something was wrong with him. She had good instincts. 

"But… you said you were queer." Charlie said. "And that it 'covers a lot of ground'? What kind of ground? You're…bisexual, pansexual, polysexual…? I don't even know the terms." 

"Terms change." Don didn't want to explain that it wasn't really a lot of ground. It was a very small ground. More like a pedestal. For one person. 

"Why are you even telling me this? Are you drunk? No, you're not drunk. I wish _I _was drunk." 

"Have another beer." 

"I don't want to have another beer. I want to understand what you're saying." 

Don finally glanced over at his brother. Charlie's face was flushed, his eyes big and alarmed. Don wanted to lean over and kiss him. It was a common urge and he brushed it away with practiced ease. 

Don gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Nothing to worry about. How about I tell you a story instead?" 

"A…story?" Charlie said faintly. "About…how you're…queer?" 

"Naw," Don said. "A fantasy. A non-real fantasy. Sometimes I like to make up fantasies. Would you like to hear one?" 

Don's heart pounded as he waited for Charlie to form a response. This was his second way of dealing with his perversion, beyond just searching out lovers that reminded him of Charlie. Some years ago, in the depth of his longing, he'd stumbled across a website for written sexual confessions. There were the usual desires about the person at the gym or a boss or a friend's wife. There were also creepier ones about minors or what are called 'family' desires. An entire section was devoted to men who fantasized about sex with their brothers. At first, Don just read the stories and felt less alone. Soon, he got the urge to share one of his own fantasies. He masked his digital and personal identity with every trick he knew, then wrote and posted a simple fantasy about touching his brother, kissing him, and having his brother kiss him back. It was such a rush to put it out there in the world like that, out of his head. And people liked it. They commented and encouraged him. So, he wrote another, one more explicit, of his brother catching him masturbating and offering to suck his cock. More comments and encouragement. Suddenly he was writing more and more. Some were funny, some raunchy, some romantic. There were even some very dark ones. Stories he wrote when he was desperate for Charlie, so desperate that he fantasized about taking his brother while Charlie was drunk or asleep or just tied up and screaming. No one Don knew could ever find out about those. 

"What kind of story?" Charlie said at last. "A…sexy one?" 

"Sure, if you'd like. Kinda like how people tell ghost stories at campouts. Sexy stories at strip clubs." 

"That doesn't really make sense." 

Don shrugged. "You want one or not?" 

"About…?" 

Don took the last drink of his beer and said quietly, "About what I would do under the table." 

"You w-would me jj-uss…uh…" 

"Just a not-real fantasy." Don put on a teasing smile. "Just a challenge. See if I can get you turned on more than this dancer." 

"…okay," Charlie said at last. 

"Great!" Don said, his heartrate increasing. "First, I need a better drink. You want something?" 

Without waiting for his answer, Don pressed the button to summon the server. When they'd come into the club and were being seated, the hostess had made it clear that the server would not come without them pressing the button. Probably so the server wouldn't have to deal with interrupting customers masturbating. 

Don picked up the large menu that was on their table and looked through the drinks and appetizers. 

Their waitress showed up shortly. 

"I'd like a hard lemonade," Don said. "Charlie, you want something?" 

"Uh…" 

"He'll have a mint soda." 

She nodded and took away Don's empty beer bottle. While they waited for her to return, they sat in silence. A new dancer was up and wearing, for some reason, a hard hat and a toolbelt. Don was mentally reviewing some of the stories he'd written and whether he could remember some of his wording for this. He was about to present a story to the most important audience possible, and he was trying not to panic. This 'non-real fantasy' might be the only way that he'd get to let Charlie know, however obliquely, how he felt about him. 

The waitress returned with two drinks. Don thanked her and they both took a sip of their drinks. Don nodded in approval at the nice combination of vanilla-infused vodka, sugar and iced lemon juice. Thinking about his drink helped settle him. Charlie swallowed some of his mint soda with a faint grimace. 

"So a story…" Don said, putting down his drink. "You ready?" 

"…I think." 

"Okay." Don took a breath and let it out. 

Then he began.  
  
  



	2. Speak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don tells Charlie a story.

**Part 2: Speak**

Don breathed deeply, staring at the middle distance, then let his focus soften, as the story formed in his vision. 

Charlie waited silently. 

"I look around," Don began. "To make sure that no one is paying attention to us. Everyone is busy in their own interactions, their own connections. Sex or the promise of sex lies heavy in the air. From outside the club, you can hear cheers as someone wins a jackpot on a slot machine. It sounds like a distant jangling orgasm." 

"Wow," Charlie said, then quickly, "Sorry, I'll be quiet." 

Don nodded and continued, "I drop my napkin and go down on my knees to pick it up. Looking around once more, I lift the tablecloth and slide underneath the table. I let the tablecloth drop and it's suddenly dark and quiet. I sit for a moment, letting my eyes adjust. It smells like stale food and beer. The floor is slightly sticky. 

"There you are, your knees are tight together. I scoot over and touch your knee lightly. You jump, as if you hadn't expected me to really touch you. I rest one hand on your knee, giving you a chance to move away. You don't and I wonder if you can feel my pounding heart, through my touch on your knee. I slowly run my hand over your knee then down your calf. I can feel your warmth through your jeans. I run my hand up then, over your thigh. You feel surprisingly muscular under the denim and I wish that… Then I shake my head and tell myself to focus on the now." 

Don's eyes were forward and he didn't know what expression was on Charlie's face. He was afraid to look over, to break the spell. He took a quick drink of his hard lemonade. 

"Your knees are still tight together," Don continued. "I began to massage the outside of your thighs, over and over and warming up the muscles. Slowly your knees began to fall apart. I move to massaging the inside of your thighs. I want to go faster but I can feel that you're trembling. I massage your legs for a long while. I can hear the muffled music of the club and I wonder if you're watching a dancer. Is she doing it for you? Or are you focused on my touch under the table? 

"Finally, your trembled has eased and I decide that I can move forward. It's now or never. I take the tablecloth that's been draped over your crotch and slide it upwards. I can see the bulge in your jeans and I hope that you're anticipating what's next. I carefully run my hand over the bulge. I wait for an objection or your hand pushing me away, but it doesn't happen. I began running my hand with more purpose and I can feel your cock hardening under my hand. Soon I'm able to shape it out of denim, a long firm shape. I haven't seen your cock since before it mattered, before I cared. Now I'm drooling in eagerness, but I have to keep going slow. I can't risk spooking you. 

"I scoot forward and I nuzzle your cock through your jeans. I can feel its warmth against my face. I rub my cheek against you then I start mouthing your cock. I taste denim when I want to taste skin but I can almost feel the throb of your pulse. I mouth it for a long time, waiting for something, a sign maybe that I can move further. My own body is aching for you, like it does so often, but I make myself wait. 

"Finally, your hand slips under the tablecloth. I hold my breath. And you slide your zipper down. I eagerly follow-" 

"Don!" Charlie interrupted. "Stop!" 

Don blinked at looked over at Charlie, but Charlie wasn't looking at him. 

David and Colby were walking up to their table, one of 'Bride Tribe' women between them. The three of them had their arms around each other. Colby and David were grinning, the woman as well. 

"We're heading upstairs for some strip poker," Colby said. "See you in the morning." 

"See you…" Charlie said faintly. 

Don had the presence of mind to raise his drink glass in salute. 

As the three of them walked away, Don realized that David had his arm around the woman's waist, but Colby's hand was on _David's_ ass. Don watched them go thoughtfully. Maybe that was why David and Colby wanted their own room, instead of sharing a suite with Don and Charlie. 

"Bet they'll have fun," Don said. He felt the usual twinge of envy that others could be turned on by random strangers. Or even co-workers. 

"At least it wasn't the bride," Charlie said. 

"Yeah," Don replied. He took a drink of his hard lemonade, wondering if the interruption had been fatal to his story. 

After a moment, Charlie said, "Um, were you gonna… you know, keep going?" 

Attempting to be casual, Don asked, "You enjoying the story?" 

"Yeah, um, yes. I never knew you could… you have a way with words." 

"Thanks," Don smiled. "Where was I?" 

"Umm…zipper." 

Don enjoyed the flush on Charlie's cheeks. But still he looked away from Charlie and focused back on his hands in front of him. He couldn't look at Charlie and talk this way. 

"Let's see…" Don took a breath then continued. "Your hand has just slipped under the tablecloth. I thought you were going to stop me, stop me from nuzzling the bulge in your jeans. But you slide your zipper down instead. Your hand moves aside. I eagerly push my hand past the zipper and feel your cock through the cotton of your underwear. I'm so close now. But still I go slow. 

"First I rub your cock through the underwear. With the soft cotton I can now feel your balls as well. I run my fingers eagerly over them. I worry, suddenly, that you might come with me doing this, before I get a chance to touch your skin, and I panic a little. So I keep one hand resting, unmoving, on your cock, because I don't want to let it go. With the other hand I massage your legs and lower belly, whatever I can reach. I even slide my moving hand down to my own crotch and adjust my cock. It's hard and uncomfortable in my jeans, but I leave it in there for now. 

"I hope that I've given you enough of a break because I can't wait any longer. I push back the edges of your zipper and mouth your cock through your underwear. I can almost taste it. I lick and mouth your cock until your underwear is wet and sticking to you, outlining your cock so clearly. I look upwards but all I can see is tablecloth. I take hold of your underwear waistband and peel your wet underwear down. Your cock is snagged at first then in springs out. I grab it in my mouth and suck hard. God, finally! 

"But I quickly back off. This can't end too fast. I reluctantly remove my mouth from your cock, then take it in one hand and just look at it. I want to be able to picture it when I jerk off, remembering this moment. I rub my thumb over its veins, its ridges. I can feel your blood pulsing under the skin. I explore the head, rub my fingers over the slit. Then I let myself take it back into my mouth." 

Don swallowed. His cock was aching but he didn't dare touch it. That might break the spell that was keeping Charlie here, listening to him. He took a quick drink of his hard lemonade, never looking towards Charlie. 

"Your cock tastes amazing," Don continued. "Like heat and chalk and _finally_. I suck you slow, rubbing the head around the edges of my lips, then sucking you in deeper. I back off and nibble the shaft, then take your head in again. I wiggle one hand into your underwear and cup your balls. I stroke and pull them lightly, like I enjoy it when it's done to me. 

"Suddenly, it becomes light. I look up to see that you've pushed the tablecloth back. You're looking down at me, your eyes huge. It's almost too much, watching you watching me suck your cock. I close my eyes and focus on my task. But I can still feel you watching me. I muffle my moan of arousal with your cock. 

"My free hand has made its way to my own cock. I let myself pull it out. It's an effort to wrestle it out of my fly. I just hold it in my hand because I know how close I am. I don't want to come before you do. 

"I feel your hand on my shoulder, tentative. I make an encouraging noise, though I don't know if you hear me. I concentrate on giving you the best blowjob of your life... if it's possible, here, cramped under a table, still mostly clothed. 

"I scoot my body as close to you as possible and twist my neck so I can get another inch of your cock until my mouth. I want to take it all, take it deep, swallow it to the base. I want to not be able to breathe because you're filling up my throat. But I take in what I can and make it feel as good as I can." 

Don got another drink of his hard lemonade. His throat was dry…and empty where he was imagining Charlie's cock to be. He sipped his drink and set it down again, still not looking at Charlie. Suddenly he feared that Charlie had lost interest and was watching the dancers instead. The slightest shift of Don's peripheral vision showed that Charlie was still looking at him, though he couldn't see his expression. 

Pushing aside nerves, and the painful throb of his cock in his jeans, Don returned to his story. 

"Your hand goes to my hair. Are you trembling or is that me? I suck and bob my mouth up and down. I can feel your heartbeat throbbing through your cock. I don't need to taste pre-cum to know you're close. You make some sort of noise but it doesn't sound like a request to stop, neither does your hand flexing in my hair. I suck harder. 

"Suddenly your hand tightens, pushing my head down as your hips thrust up. The hot splash of cum on my tongue makes me moan in eagerness. It keeps coming and I swallow every salty, sharp, _Charlie_ drop. I suck and swallow and suck more, until there's nothing left. Your hand is still gripping my hair tightly. 

"I grab my own waiting cock. Three strokes and I'm coming, moaning into your softening cock. The orgasm rocks my whole body, more intense then I can ever remember, from anything. I shudder against you as the wave crashes through me. Words, incoherent and urgent, are spoken against your skin. 

"Finally, I have nothing left either. My lips release your soft cock and I lay my head down on your thigh. I close my eyes, afraid to look at you. What will you think of me now? 

"Your hand releases my hair and slides down to my cheek. Then you are stroking my cheek, and you are trembling. 

"I take a deep breath, deeper than my fear, then I open my eyes and look up at your face." 

Don took a long drink of his hard lemonade. He gripped his glass tightly to stop his hands from shaking. He still didn't look at Charlie. Eventually, he said, "That's the end." 

"That's the end?" Charlie said. "What do I do?" 

"The end." 

  
  
  



	3. Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie has a surprising reaction to Don's story.

**Part 3: Touch**

After Don finished his story, there was a long pause, then Charlie said, "That was… That was amazing. I didn't know you could…and just…you…I…wow…" Charlie gave a breathy laugh. "You won your challenge, yeah." 

Don frowned at his glass. "What challenge?" 

"To see if you could get me more turned on then the dancers. Yeah, I'd say so." 

Don looked at Charlie out of the corner of his eye. "Yeah?" 

"Yes, um, measurably." 

Don couldn't help a proud smile. He'd turned Charlie on. It was only fair, since Charlie was the only person who'd ever been able to turn Don on. Even if he wasn't trying to. 

Charlie drank some of his soda, then said slowly, "There was some, um, really specific stuff in there that seemed, um, well, not fictional." 

"I made it all up," Don said. "Just a story. For the challenge." Don could feel panic rising and he fought to hide it. In his desire to make Charlie feel some of what Don did, Don had gone too far, revealed too much. Before he told this story, Don had thought telling Charlie a 'non-real fantasy' might be the only way that he'd get to let Charlie know how he felt about him, just a little. But he’d gotten carried away with telling a good story. And now he was desperately back-peddling. 

Charlie pressed, "But you forgot about the challenge." 

"No, I didn't. I was just teasing you." 

"No, you weren't! I think your story had, there were some thoughts that seemed, well, thoughtful. Like real thoughts." 

"No!" Don snapped. "Don't be stupid, Charlie. It meant nothing. You're my brother. That's sick." 

"Stop it," Charlie said. 

"Are you sick like that, Charlie? Because I'm not." 

"Stop it!" Charlie growled. "Just shut up. Just stop talking." 

Don grabbed for his drink. The time to stop talking would have been ten minutes ago. Now he'd talked too much and his cock was so hard it hurt and Charlie knew he was a pervert. 

"Just shut up," Charlie said in a softer tone. "And don't look at me." 

Don didn't think he could if he wanted to. 

Don felt a touch on his wrist and he flinched. He looked down and Charlie was taking hold of his wrist. 

"Don't look!" Charlie said and Don's eyes went back to his drink. 

Don felt a tug on his wrist and he let Charlie pull it. Then he felt fabric against the back of his hand. Not just fabric - denim. Charlie's jeans. And… Charlie was rubbing Don's knuckles against his jeans. 

Against his bulge. 

Don squeezed his eyes closed, to stop himself from looking. 

"This is what your story did," Charlie said quietly. "I told you that your story measurably turned me on. I've now got a significant erection." 

Don bit his tongue and tried to memorize the feel of the denim and the warm firmness underneath. 

Charlie continued to rub Don's hand over his 'significant erection.' "I'm not an idiot, I noticed the absorbent tablecloths and the server only coming when you press a button. I know they expect people to, well, take care of themselves while they're here. I…um…well…yes." 

Then, Don couldn't believe it, Charlie unzipped his jeans. Charlie did it quickly, as if he was worried he would change his mind. Charlie then rubbed Don's hand on his cock through the underwear. 

Charlie cleared his throat. "Getting, ah, the picture?" 

Don had a swallow a few times before he could answer. "Are you sure?" 

"No, but do it anyway. It's my bachelor party. It's supposed to be crazy." 

Don didn't waste another breath arguing. He didn't want Charlie to think about this too much. Without looking, Don turned his hand and pulled down the waistband of Charlie's underwear. He fumbled a bit, before Charlie took charge and pulled out his cock and wrapped Don's hand around it. Don was now gripping Charlie's hard cock, his knuckles against Charlie's belly. 

"Holy shit," Don said hoarsely. Charlie's cock was throbbing in his hand. The _real thing_ not just the fantasy version that he'd thought about so many times 

"So are you all talk?" Charlie said, his voice shaky. 

Don immediately began moving his hand. He felt the skin of Charlie's cock move over the solid core. He wanted desperately to look, but he kept his eyes forward. He stroked up and down, using every technique he could think of at this awkward angle. He listened hard and could hear Charlie's heavy breathing. 

"Not all talk," Don murmured. 

Charlie whimpered softly in response. The sound went straight to Don's already aching cock. Don took his hand from Charlie's cock long enough to spit in it, then returned to stroking. 

"Oh…" Charlie said, his voice rising. Don wanted this to last longer but Charlie was already pushing up into Don's hand. 

Don finally looked over. Charlie's eyes were closed and he was gripping the bench beside him. His face was flushed and he was as beautiful as Don had ever imagined. Don jerked his own zipper down and wrestled out his hard cock. He held on to his cock with one hand and Charlie's with the other. Don stroked his own cock to the rhythm of Charlie's thrusts. Charlie's mouth was open and panting and he began to toss his head from side to side. 

Don whispered, "Come for me, Charlie." 

As if he heard him, Charlie thrust up into Don's grip. With a deep moan, he came, his cum squirting over Don's hand. Don stroked him through each gasp and spurt. Charlie was shaking, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. 

Finally, Charlie's eyes opened, and Don quickly turned his gaze back away. Charlie thrust up into Don's hand for another long moment. Don pulled on his own cock, feeling he was close. 

"Wait," Charlie gasped. 

Don looked over but Charlie was staring straight ahead. However, Charlie's hand was fumbling towards Don. Hoping he was guessing right, Don grabbed Charlie's hand and placed it on his cock. Charlie immediately wrapped his hand around Don's cock and began stroking. 

Don groaned as he watched Charlie's familiar hand going up and down his cock. Don was still holding Charlie's cock. Too soon, far too soon, Don felt his orgasm nearing. He gasped and his orgasm burst out of him. His cum shot over his stomach and over Charlie's hand. He thrust up into Charlie's hand for as long as he could. 

At last, he came to a shuddering stop. They sat together, both gasping, hands on each other's spent cocks, neither looking at each other. Don lightly wrapped his free hand around Charlie's cum-covered one. 

Past the rushing in his ears, Don noticed distantly that the dancer on the stage was dressed like a cheerleader. 


	4. Eat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie is not okay.

**Part 4: Eat**

Slowly, Charlie drug his hand off Don's cock and out of his grip. Charlie wiped his hand on the tablecloth. Don reluctantly removed his hand from Charlie's now soft cock. He lifted his hand to his mouth and took a lick of Charlie's cum. 

"Eww," Charlie laughed. "Did you just do that?" 

Don shrugged and wiped his hand the rest of the way off on the tablecloth. 

More quietly, Charlie asked, "Did _we_ just do that?" 

"Uh-huh," Don said. He tucked his soft cock away, then reached for his drink with shaking hands. As he raised the glass, the ice cubes rattled together. 

Charlie tucked himself away as well and zipped up his pants. He sat, frowning down at his drink. 

"You want something different to drink?" Don asked. He was proud that his voice sounded almost normal. 

"Something to eat," Charlie said. His voice, on the other hand, sounded tense. 

"You okay?" Don asked. 

"No, not really." 

"Because of… what we just did?" 

"I'm getting married in two weeks." 

Don grimaced. "I know." 

"I love Amita." 

"I know." 

Charlie reached out and stabbed the server button. Their waitress appeared promptly. Charlie belatedly picked up the menu and started looking at it. 

Because the waitress was standing there, Don asked for a coffee. He wanted more alcohol but he didn't want to be drunk. He might say… Okay, he'd already said far too much. And done too much. The palm of his hand tingled where he'd gripped Charlie's cock. 

Charlie asked for an order of cheese quesadillas and a plate of tempura green beans. He also requested a water. 

The waitress smiled, nodded and walked away. Don wondered if she could smell cum or if she was just used to it. 

"Thought we could share," Charlie said. "I'm always hungry…well, afterwards." 

Don filed this away in his slim file of facts he could use in his stories. He couldn't use anything that might identify either of them. He frowned. Maybe after tonight he wouldn't be able to write them anymore. Might not feel right. 

Or he might need them more than ever. 

In awkward silence, they watched the latest dancer. This one was delightfully brown-skinned, a good antidote to the series of white-skinned blondes. She was wearing a gold bikini and had great moves. 

"This one's nice," Charlie said. He looked over at Don. "Not as nice as…" 

"Challenge still holds?" Don asked. 

"Yeah." 

Don had to smile. He'd been able to turn Charlie on. That had to mean something. 

Something. 

"Look, Don, I…" Charlie started but didn't go any further. 

Don watched the dancer spin and twist and thought about Charlie's cum pumping over his hand. 

After a long silence, the good dancer followed by just another blonde, their food and drinks arrived. Charlie quickly began to wolf it down. 

"Wow," Don said. "You weren't kidding." 

Charlie shook his head and scooped up orange-colored dipping sauce with two tempura green beans. Don took a piece of cheese quesadilla. 

"Amita complains about crumbs in bed," Charlie said around his mouthful. 

Don slid the tip of his quesadilla through the sour cream. He wasn't really interested in being reminded of Amita. He took a bite of the quesadilla then set it aside. He added some cream and sugar to the cup of coffee. 

Charlie inhaled half of the green beans and two pieces of quesadilla before finally slowing down. "Don, we gotta talk about this." 

Don stirred his coffee. "Do we?" 

"Yes!" Charlie waved his green bean in emphasis. "For starters, can we go back to the part about you being, um, queer?" 

"I'd rather not." 

"So," Charlie persisted. "You like men?" 

"Some men." 

"And women?" 

"As much as men," Don said. While misleading, that was accurate. All men but one turned him on just as much as all women. 

"And I'm…just a man?" 

Don sighed and took a sip of his coffee. He set the cup down. "Not just." 

"No, I'm your brother." 

"I know that," Don snapped. 

"Yeah, sorry." Charlie ate his green bean slowly then said, "Can't imagine Amita doing what you just did to me. In public." 

Don sipped his coffee again. 

"She's a bit more…conventional." Charlie added hastily, "Not that that's bad. Or it's bad, I mean sex with Amita. It's good, it's great." 

Don nodded, because it seemed like he should. 

Charlie ate two more green beans. At last, he said, almost too quietly to hear, "Don't know that she'd win the challenge, though." 

Don turned his head to stare at Charlie. Did he mean what Don thought he meant? That Don's story turned Charlie on more than _Amita_ did? 

"Hey," Charlie grumbled. "Don't look at me like that." He took a drink of his water. "It's a different sort of thing. A…strip club sort of thing." 

Don raised his eyebrows. That sounded weak even to him. 

"Don't look at me like that," Charlie grumbled again. He ate another piece of quesadilla, in quick almost angry bites. 

Don asked, "How do you want me to look at you?" 

Charlie glared at him and turned to eating the green beans. He dipped the tempura green beans in the orange sauce two at a time and ate them mechanically. He finished off the whole plate, then the last piece of quesadilla. He chased it down with the entire glass of water. 

Don drank his coffee and watched Charlie eat. He was dreading what Charlie decided to ask next. Don didn't want to lie to him, but how do you explain to your brother that you're a pervert? Or maybe just a sociopath? 

Charlie set down his empty water glass with a thump. "Why did you _do _this to me?" 

"Do what?" 

"I'm getting married in two weeks and you made things strange!" 

"Sorry," Don said. In truth he was thrilled to have made such an impression. "I just wanted…to say goodbye." 

"Couldn't you just have given me a present?" Charlie said, his voice growing louder and higher. "Instead of…this?" 

Don grimaced. He hated seeing Charlie upset. "I am sorry," he said, and meant it this time. "I should have…kept it to myself for a little while longer." 

"Ugh, what am I going to do now?" 

"Forget about it?" Don suggested. "Chalk it up to bachelor party craziness? You know, what happens in Vegas…" 

"Doubt Amita would see it that way," Charlie snapped. 

"Are you going to tell her?" Don said. "God, I hope not. She's going to be my sister-in-law, after all." 

"She's going to be my _wife_!" 

Don made a shushing gesture. That last outburst was loud enough to draw some attention, even secluded as they were. 

Grumbling under his breath, Charlie stuck a finger in his dipping sauce then sucked off his finger. 

Don had to close his eyes at the surge of arousal that gave him. 

"See? See?" Charlie said, his voice now quiet and harsh. 

"What?" Don said, opening his eyes again and trying to look unconcerned. 

"Everything is _sexual_ now between us." 

Don sighed. He might as well tell Charlie some of the truth. "Been that way for me for a while now." 

Charlie eyed him. "How long?" 

"Since you came back from England. It just happened." 

"Since then?" Charlie said, sounding skeptical. "You would hardly even talk to me." 

"Yes." 

Charlie looked at him for a moment. "Okay, that makes sense." 

"None of this makes sense." 

"That too." 

The music changed and Don saw a new dancer come out. She was dressed in an old-fashioned nurse's uniform. 

"Look, a med school student," Don said weakly. 

Charlie made an annoyed sound and reached for the menu. 

"Still hungry?" Don asked. "You always this hungry or are you… particularly hungry?" 

"Shut up," Charlie snapped. He unfolded the big menu and put it over his head, one half above his head and the other half between him and the room. 

"What are you...?" 

"Shut up," Charlie said again, then leaned towards him. The big menu covered both of their faces. 

Don was still wondering what was going on when Charlie's lips met his. 

It was a tentative kiss, and Don was frozen in shock for a full second. Then he was kissing Charlie back with gusto. Charlie whimpered, the menu shaking in his grip. He started kissing Don more firmly and fire sparked between them. Charlie's tongue touched Don's lips and his own tongue slid eagerly into Charlie's mouth. Charlie tasted warm and perfect. It was better than any kiss that Don had ever had. He wanted to drown in it. 

Charlie pulled back, taking the menu with him. They were both panting. 

Charlie dropped the menu as if it was hot and leaned back against his seat. "Damn, damn… I should not have done that." 

Don's lips were tingling. "Why not?" 

"Because I can't undo it. I can't _not_ know what it's like now." 

"What was it like?" 

"Not weird," Charlie said. "I was hoping it would be weird." 

"Not weird," Don agreed. He added quietly, "Really nice." 

"Yeah…" 

They sat there in strained silence. The nurse dancer had opened her uniform to show a thong and bikini. Her full breasts bounced as she moved. 

Abruptly, Charlie leaned forward and pressed the server call button. 

When the waitress appeared, Charlie asked her for the check. They waited until she returned with it, then Charlie quickly signed it to their hotel room. He handed the check back to her with a forced smile then waited for her to leave. 

"C'mon," Charlie said, scooting out from the table. 

Don moved more slowly, unsure of the determined expression on Charlie's face. "Where are we going?" 

"To our hotel room." 

"Why?" 

"Because the menu isn't that big and I want to kiss you some more." 

Don's heart started pounding. "Really?" 

"Yes." Charlie said then added sharply. "I'm not married yet." 

"No…" 

"We can go back to our hotel room, which we conveniently are not sharing with David and Colby or anyone else." 

Charlie walked quickly out of the club and Don had to hurry to catch up with him. 

Don asked, "Then what?" 

Charlie's eyes were straight ahead, searching out the elevator. "Then you can tell me another story." 

"You want another story?" 

"Yes, definitely." 

"That's it?" 

Charlie smiled lopsidedly. "Then more kissing." 

"_That's_ it?" 

Charlie gave a strange laugh, somewhere between anger and eagerness. "If the story affects me as much as your earlier one, that won't be it." 

"Oh," Don said, stunned that this was happening. Was this just pre-wedding jitters or had all the years of misery been unnecessary? Then again, he wouldn't have learned to tell erotic stories without those years. Maybe Charlie just meant another handjob. Don shouldn't get ahead of himself. 

They reached the elevator and Charlie impatiently stabbed the UP button. "You know, it makes more sense now, ghost stories at campouts. Sexy stories at strip clubs." 

"Or hotel rooms?" 

"Yeah." Charlie turned to look at Don and he was grinning. His eyes were alight with anticipation. 

It sent shivers through Don and he was grinning back. "Maybe we'll have to set a new challenge. See if I can top the previous story." 

"Oh, I have the feeling you can," Charlie laughed. 

Don felt his grin widening, spreading to his whole body. His throat was dry, his heart was thudding, his cock was already tight against his jeans. He wondered if Charlie could feel the _want_ rolling off Don in waves. Charlie would have no idea that Don had only ever felt desire for him. That was something Don planned on keeping to himself. Right now Charlie just thought him an over-sexed man who didn't mind the barrier of incest. If Charlie thought what they'd done so far made things 'weird', then Charlie would be mortified to learn the level of Don's obsession with him. 

Tonight was going to be the material for a thousand stories. 

Over the racing of his heart, Don said, "You know what else this hotel has, on the off-chance that you're in need of it?" 

Charlie smiled at him, standing closer than Don ever allowed himself to get. "What?" 

"Excellent room service." Don put his arm around Charlie's shoulders. "And I don't mind crumbs in my bed." 


End file.
